


Gamekhdarân

by Morgyn Leri (morgynleri)



Series: Agnu Ra Nutû [46]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, GFY, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 08:32:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1892298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgynleri/pseuds/Morgyn%20Leri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Boromir is tempted by the Ring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gamekhdarân

When Boromir first sees the simple, golden ring, there is a moment when he thinks that it is a gift, a weapon. A moment where he thinks he hears a faint whisper, before he closes his eyes, shaking his head slightly. Draws to the front of his mind his mother in her final days, pale as parchment and fragile as a glass ornament. The drain of daring to pit her strength alongside his father's against the Enemy, and a reminder that there is nothing that once touched by the Enemy is worth such a cost.

He offers his aid in seeking to destroy it, and much of the weeks while he waits for their leave-taking he spends in sparring with Kíli and Tauriel, and in discovering what he might of his fellows. He's not certain he particularly likes Aragorn - a would-be king who has no grasp of politics in Gondor, and whose only claim to the throne is through Arvedui's wife - and makes no secret of it, though he does respect the skill that he is said to have in battle, and the sword he bears. Elendil's sword will be welcome, indeed, in protection of Gondor.

Boromir finds the journey south easy enough, teaching the hobbits how to use their swords as they travel. Until the crebain come from Dunland, and their path is turned from the Gap of Rohan to more dangerous paths.

Dangerous indeed, in the pass of Caradhras, when Frodo nearly falls, and he hears the whispers again as he catches the hobbit. Whispers that he can prevent more deaths if he but reaches out to take the ring, and Boromir draws a sharp breath, stepping away from Frodo as soon as the hobbit is safely on his feet. He brings to mind the shouted arguments with his father over Faramir being dragged into the same folly that had killed their mother. The quieter, sharper words exchanged with his brother over the same. He will not make himself like them, welcoming the danger of the Enemy with open arms and closed eyes.

After Moria, he thinks that having the Ring would have stopped neither the too-close encounter with the beast in the water, nor Gandalf's fall from the shattered bridge. It would have helped nothing, and he reminds himself of that, despite the faint niggle that maybe he could have spared them the horrors of beast and Balrog.

He cannot let himself fail because of grief, though he's not entirely certain how he gets them all to the forest, with Aragorn leading, and himself at the rear. They cannot lose anyone else, not now. He only knows that they do make it, if only to be confronted by arrows and hostility.

In Lothlórien, the days bleed into each other, and he finds he dislikes it immensely. They are waiting out the harshest part of winter, but still, they are not moving, and that worries him. To stop too long is to invite death, in his mind, and failure, and he cannot allow himself to fail, nor the journey.

He is soothed by the journey on the river, speeding toward the south and the destruction of the Ring. Boromir does not anticipate the fierce whispers on Amon Hen as he gathers wood, once more from the Ring, though he thinks he is not the only one called when he hears the horns of orcs. It becomes chaos, and he can only follow the whispers, to make sure Frodo is gotten safely away.

At the camp, Frodo looks at him with frightened eyes, and Boromir cannot take the time to reassure him, only urges him to the boat - they must cross the lake before the orcs get this far - and pushes it out into the water. He has to grab Sam when the other hobbit follows, saying something about Gandalf having instructed him not to lose Frodo, not to leave him behind.

Boromir repeats his own oath to see Frodo safely into Mordor, to see the Ring destroyed, his voice harsh as he keeps in mind his family, and the dangers they have ever faced in defying the Enemy. He cannot forget what he has lost.

That keeps the whispers from overwhelming his mind as they make their way south and east toward the Ephel Dúath, and a pass he vaguely recalls in the northern part of those mountains. It cannot stop the Ring's constant attempts to coax him, though, cannot stop the insidious and frightful song.

It becomes terrible indeed when they're in the shadow of the tower that sits at the northern reach of the road that ends at Minas Morgul in the south. Boromir barely gets the command for Frodo and Sam to run and to hide out before he turns away, his hands clenched so tightly into fists that they ache, and he is certain he will damage his gloves.

His mother's face, his brother's voice, his father's secrets, none of them are enough to drown out the song, and he searches his memory for something, anything, to keep his mind free.

_"You are not what you are expected to do, but the person you keep in your heart."_

The words swim through the clamor, half-remembered from talking to the dwarf who'd been the ambassador from Erebor when he had first learned his father's great secret. A line he snatches at, clings to as a shield against the temptation of the Ring.

Sam watches him with worry, and Frodo with wary stiffness, when he finds them again. They do not flee, though, and he almost berates them for it, but cannot bring himself to do so. Instead, he throws himself into the final part of their journey, making their way across the plains of Gorgoroth to Mount Doom. There are too many orcs at first, and they must crouch in the rubble-strewn feet of the Morgai, until the armies stream in long lines toward the Black Gate.

Sauron is distracted, then, by some disturbance at the mouth of his realm, and Boromir can only think it is Aragorn, is Elendil's Sword, that holds Sauron's attention so they might make the last journey. He will not slow, will not stop, almost dragging the hobbits in his wake until they're at the mouth of a crack in the mountain. The Cracks of Doom, they must be, and he follows now behind Frodo as the hobbit creeps toward the edge where he might fling the Ring in.

Only he doesn't, and Boromir is barely aware of the failure of the hobbit as the Ring all but screams, deafeningly loud, shrieking for its master, for someone to take it from the hobbit who would destroy it. He lurches forward, and when he feels someone trying to stop him, slaps them away. Following the call of the Ring, all else wraiths at the edges of his mind.

_"You are my son, and you are my sword."_

His mother's voice, the quiet praise when he first took up his place among the men who fought to protect Gondor.

_"You are Gondor's Captain-General, her shield against the Shadow."_

His brother, smiling when Boromir had not been able to find that in himself, the ache of his mother not seeing his triumph making it seem less.

_"You are a soldier, not a Steward. Do not fail to be the soldier, or you will never be the Steward."_

His father's reminder when last he'd seen Denethor.

Boromir gasped and panted, his hand clenched hard around a wrist he cannot see, fighting his own desire to wrench the Ring from Frodo, and knowing he will fail. Will fail his mother, his people, his brother, and his father. He clenches his teeth, feeling tears prickling at his eyes, as he looks past Frodo's invisible form at the edge of the ledge.

"Forgive me."

It's terribly easy to fling himself from the ledge, dragging Frodo with him. There is no rescue from this, no failure, only the ever-growing heat, and the knowledge of death waiting below.

**Author's Note:**

> The title means "five times".


End file.
